


A Daughter to Begin With

by PJ1228



Category: Forever Knight
Genre: F/M, Flashback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-30
Updated: 2005-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJ1228/pseuds/PJ1228
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lacroix and Janette meet for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Daughter to Begin With

**Author's Note:**

> Forever Knight and its characters were created by Barney Cohen and James D. Parriott and are copyright to Sony/Tristar. None of the characters in this story belongs to me. I'm just borrowing them temporarily. No infringement intended. No profit is being made.  
> Part of the dialogue is taken directly from “A Fate Worse than Death”, written by Gillian Horvath.
> 
> Special thanks to Doris for beta reading.

**A Daughter to Begin With**  
by PJ  
September 2005

France, 974 AD

It was in the early morning hours when a weary traveller reached a small village. The village itself lay in silence but the adjoining castle was still illuminated. Music and laughter could be heard through the windows and the surrounding grounds.

The horseman alighted at the gate, cast a concerned look towards the Eastern horizon and knocked on the heavy door. A servant opened, asking about his errand.

"Is there a place a traveller can take lodgings for the day?" the stranger inquired.

"If you’ll wait here a moment. I’m certain the marquis is able to help you."

The traveller nodded and watched as the servant went to fetch his master.

A handsome young man with stunning blue eyes appeared a moment later and motioned him into the hall. "I am Antoine, Marquis duCharme," he introduced himself. "How can I help you?"

"Lucien Lacroix," the stranger introduced himself as well. "I’m seeking shelter for the day. I was wondering if you could recommend appropriate lodgings."

The marquis regarded his visitor probingly and decided that he looked respectable enough. "I already have plenty of guests staying at my house. One more won’t be any trouble. You are welcome to stay in one of my guest rooms."

Lacroix was surprised at the hospitality. "Thank you, I won’t be much of a burden. I’ve travelled all night and will likely sleep all day," he explained.

"Then you must be tired. Otherwise, you are welcome to join the celebrations. My wife gave birth to a daughter."

"Congratulations. But if you don’t mind, I will retire," Lacroix declined the invitation as he sensed the rising sun.

"As you wish," the marquis replied and called for a servant to take Lacroix’s luggage to one of the guest rooms.

* * *

On the next evening Lacroix woke at a child's screaming. As it was already dark, he ventured out of his chamber to investigate. He followed the sounds to a room that looked like a nursery. There in a craddle he discovered the cause of his disturbed sleep.

Seeing no one else in the room he reached for the child and picked it up. To his surprise it ceased screaming immediately and regarded him curiously with large blue eyes.

"Janette!" the voice of a woman called and Lacroix turned as he perceived two approaching mortals. He recognized his host, who was accompanied by a beautiful young woman with raven hair.

"I told you Marie cannot be trusted. I bet she’s somewhere on the grounds with that boy from the stables. You have to grant them to marry or throw them out," the woman scolded her husband. Then she stopped in her tracks upon seeing Lacroix with her child.

"You are too harsh with Marie," her husband soothed her. "And this arrangement is supposed to be only temporary until your wet nurse has recovered from her cold. By the way, it seems Janette has found someone else to look out for her." Turning to Lacroix he added, "I hope she hasn’t inconvenienced you in any way?"

"Not at all," Lacroix replied and handed the child over to Antoine.

He watched as the younger man cradled the child, completely engrossed in the joy of fatherhood. The scene reminded him of the first time he had held Divia in his arms. "I find it astonishing that you care so much for a daughter," he remarked. "One would expect a son is what fathers prefer to have these days."

"Oh, a daughter is just the beginning. We plan on many more children," Antoine said with a leering glance at his wife who blushed embarrassedly. "I’m sure a son will be among them."

Lacroix smiled at the couple in front of him. Their love was palpaple. This child would be cared for well.

He took the opportunity to take his leave. After retrieving his belongings, he found his horse ready in the yard. Without further delay he set out towards Paris.

* * *

France, 994 AD

Chance had it that Lacroix was passing through the same area about twenty years later. Although he had intended to travel on for a few more hours, he decided to stop where he had found such agreeable shelter two decades ago.

But as he drew closer to the village, he became aware of its change. Most houses were run down and the castle itself looked worse for wear, rising like a gloomy ruin above the village. Lacroix couldn’t imagine that Antoine duCharme would allow such a change to come over his estate. Curious, he decided to make some inquiries. First he sought out the churchyard where he read the inscriptions on the grave stones. A bout of sadness overcame him as he stood in front of the graves of Antoine and his wife.

According to the inscription Antoine had died in battle barely a year after his visit. His wife seemed to have re-married, before she died in child birth. Mortality could be so unkind, Lacroix thought and wondered what had happened to their child. There was no inscription with the name of 'Janette'.

Lacroix made his way towards the castle. No one answered when he knocked at the gate. With no little impatience he let himself in and moved towards the dining hall from where he distinguished the heartbeat of a living being. Again Lacroix felt disturbed by the change that had come over the castle since his last visit. The tapestries that used to decorate the hall were either torn or missing. The furniture was covered with a layer of dust and cobwebs seemed to be the most abundant decoration.

A man of about 40 years of age sat huddled over a table, a glass and several bottles of wine around him.  
"Good evening," Lacroix breathed, quite abhorred by the sight in front of him.

The man looked up and stared at him through glassy eyes. "What do you want?" he inquired in a drunken voice.  
"Are you the owner of this estate?"

"Of what’s left of it," he replied.

"I see. May I ask how you came into the possession of this?" he asked, gesturing dismissively around.

The man graced Lacroix with a broad grin. "By marriage of course. I passed this place some twenty years ago and met this stunning widow. After marrying her however, she turned out to be a bitch. Died when our son should have been born and left me with her bastard daughter."

"Such ingratitude," Lacroix remarked. "This daughter is still around, I assume?"

"Oh, you are too late," the man replied in a vicious tone. "Another came along four years ago. Some wealthy wine merchant. Gave me a bucket of wine and enough money to pay off the debts. Christ, but was I glad when I was rid of her."

Lacroix had a hard time containing his fury. No child deserved to grow up with a man like this. His hand shot forth and clenched around the man's neck. Focusing on his heartbeat he gazed into his eyes. "I need a name and a place," he demanded.

"Jean Fuchault, St. Germain," the man answered.

"Thank you," Lacroix breathed. Then in a quick motion he broke the man’s neck.

* * *

Lacroix reached St. Germain several nights later. Inquiries soon led him to the mansion of the person he was looking for. He seemed to be the richest man in the place. Perhaps destiny had been kind to Janette and he wasn’t so bad a match. Lacroix remained in the shadows and watched the mansion for a while. He had no intention of making Janette’s acquaintance should he find everything in her favour.

Through the windows he made out a stout man in a chair, talking to a woman whose belly hinted at pregnancy. When the woman came into view however, Lacroix furrowed his brow. The woman was blonde. Somehow he had assumed Janette would have inherited her mother’s hair colour.

What if Janette’s stepfather had given him a wrong address? Then he would never be able to find her. But no, he had had him under his spell. People always spoke the truth in that situation. Something was terribly amiss here. He decided to make further investigations and took lodgings at a nearby inn.

* * *

"This wine you serve is quite delicious," Lacroix commended the inn-keeper on the next evening. "Is it from a local distributor?"

"Oh, yes. Fuchault, the wine merchant, lives right next door. If you wish I can introduce you to him," the inn-keeper offered, eager to please a well paying customer.

"Very well. It shall not be to your disadvantage," Lacroix replied and threw a coin in front of his host.

After picking up the money greedily, he motioned Lacroix to follow him.

* * *

A servant opened the gate to the mansion next door. They followed him into the hall and were soon met by the man Lacroix had observed the night before.

"Good evening, Fuchault. This gentleman who took lodgings with me has expressed an interest in your fine wines," Lacroix’s host stated their errand.

"Welcome. You’ll find that my wines are the best in the whole of France. Did you have a special vintage in mind?" Fuchault asked.

"If you don’t mind, I would like to sample what you have to offer before making my choice," Lacroix replied.  
"Of course. If you will follow me."

Lacroix dismissed his host and followed the merchant into a parlour, where he discovered the pregnant woman sitting by the fireplace.

"Yvette, ma cher, leave us alone for a while. This gentleman and I have some business to conduct," Fuchault addressed her.

She nodded, smiled demurely at Lacroix and left the room.

Lacroix stared after her, now certain that his intuition hadn’t failed him. "Your wife?" he asked.

"Yes," Fuchault confirmed proudly while he placed several bottles in front of Lacroix. "We are finally expecting our first child."

"I believe congratulations are in order," Lacroix said and took a careful sip from the first glass Fuchault had poured him. "Why don’t you join me in a glass of this extraordinary vintage?"

"With pleasure, sir. With pleasure," Fuchault said and almost emptied his glass in one gulp before refilling it.

"You sound quite impatient about becoming a father," Lacroix observed.

"Oh, I am. With the estate a man needs an heir," Fuchault replied.

"Of course. Perhaps you should have considered marrying earlier," Lacroix suggested.

"Oh, I did! But the bitch they cheated me with was unable to produce any offspring. I tried for two years before sending her off to the next brothel in Paris."

Fuchault was oblivious to the icy glare his guest fixed upon him.

So, have you decided on a vintage?" he asked after a pause.

"In fact, I have," Lacroix stated, rose from his chair and sank his fangs into Fuchault’s neck.

* * *

He left the merchant slumped over the table and returned into the auberge.

"Have you found a vintage to your satisfaction?" his host inquired.

"Indeed, I have," Lacroix replied. Then he gathered his belongings and set out for Paris.

* * *

As a result of his frequent dealings as consultant to the king, Lacroix maintained a mansion of his own in Paris. He was familiar with the city and its brothels which he had often found to be a convenient hunting ground.

Thus he was able to start his inquiries without further delay on the first evening after his arrival. Yet his hope to find Janette started to decline after he had searched through the first two brothels in vain. He became acutely aware of the conditions under which these women lived. According to his assumption, Janette must have been here for two years already and he doubted anyone could survive much longer.

His mood was somewhat subdued when he approached the next brothel-keeper. A man who called himself Daviau asked about his preferences.

"I’d prefer someone of noble blood," Lacroix stated and prepared himself for the usual answer.

"You are lucky, I have just the perfect lady for you," Daviau replied as he had expected. "If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll see if she is ready to receive you."

While he waited, his nose picked up the unmistakable scent of death and decay. Disgusted he went to investigate. Down the hall he opened the door to a chamber and found the corpse of a pregnant woman on the bed. Her body temperature told him that she must have passed away only recently. Lacroix closed his eyes briefly and hoped he wasn’t too late to save Janette from a similar fate.

A sudden disturbance on the grounds roused him from his thoughts.

"Aidez-moi!" a female voice screamed in terror.

Concerned, he rushed outside and witnessed as a woman was rudely assaulted by a man. He couldn’t see her face, only a mass of dark curls. To his surprise the man suddenly yelped in pain and let go off her. The woman used the distraction to scurry away from him.

'Such spirit,' Lacroix admired and realized amused that she must have bitten her assailant. When he was about to advance on her again, Lacroix acted. He grabbed the man and drained him within seconds. After letting the body slump to the ground he slowly turned towards the woman who was staring at him through large blue eyes.

The resemblance with her mother was striking. Lacroix knew he had found his quarry.

* * *

He watched as Janette hurried back into the house and followed unnoticed. Her gown was torn and he picked up a cloak to cover her shoulders. Only when he touched her did she become aware of his presence and whirled around.  
"I know you. You’ve been following me," she observed.

"You have no idea for how long," he replied. "Daviau tells me you are of noble blood. Is this true?"

"I am whatever you want me to be."

"I want you to be so much more than mere nobility," Lacroix breathed and brushed a finger tenderly over her cheek. "Come with me."

"If you meet Daviau’s price," she said uncertainly.

"Oh no. No. What I offer cannot be bought, or sold. You must choose. Stay here, and die like your friend, as all these women will. Or come with me, and without your permission, no mere mortal will ever dare touch you again.”

While Janette listened, captivated, he held out his hand. "You’ve heard it said that living well is the best revenge," he continued and closed his hand over hers. "Au contraire, living forever is the best revenge." He pulled her towards him and gently bit into her neck.

While he was draining her, Lacroix gained images from her life and he admired her all the more that her spirit had remained unbroken throughout her miseries. When he gave her his blood in return, he passed a promise along to be there for her whenever she needed him.

* * *

Janette adapted quickly to her new lifestyle. After her first meal, for which he had chosen her tormentor Daviau, she had never shown any qualms about her choice of food.

Lacroix taught her everything she needed to know and polished her education in art and music and manners. He introduced her to the king and watched with satisfaction as the young men at court outwitted each other in their efforts to win the honour of a dance with her.

Yet he also noticed a certain distance towards the male gender. Except to feed, she wouldn’t allow any man closer than courtesy demanded. And even when she killed them, she simply drained them without indulging in seductive foreplay to sweeten the taste.

* * *

"You are doing very well, my daughter," Lacroix said approvingly after they had returned from another ball. "There is only little left that you need to learn."

"And that would be?" Janette inquired curiously.

"The art of love, for example."

Janette stared at him, appalled. "Excuse me, I know how to make love. It was how I earned my living, remember?" Why did he have to bring this up now and remind her where she came from? The previous months had been wonderfully distracting. She had almost forgotten about her past.

"You may know how to make love, but you obviously don’t know how to enjoy love," he pointed out.  
"What is there to enjoy?" she scoffed. "I lie down and wait until it’s over."

"Oh, ma fille, there is so much more," Lacroix breathed.

Janette regarded him questioningly. "What else could there possibly be? Besides getting pregnant, but that is as improbable now as before my conversion, right?"

"I’m talking about pleasure, ecstasy and satisfaction. I will be pleased to teach you all that..."

Lacroix moved in front of her and tenderly brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. "Trust me," he breathed. Then he reached for the fastenings of her gown and opened them. The gown slid from her slender form, reavealing her bare figure.

Janette cast her eyes to the floor in demure submission.

Reaching out with his hand, Lacroix raised her chin to make her look at him. "You are flawless, ma belle. There is no need to cast your eyes to the ground. I want you to take pride in the picture you present."

Janette stared at him. No man had spoken thus to her before.

"Your body deserves to be cherished," Lacroix continued and brushed his fingertips tenderly from her chin, along her neck towards her chest.

Several men had begun their advances like that before they forced themselves upon her. Why should this be any different? Resigning herself to her fate with a sigh, Janette raised her hands to unfasten the lacings of his garments, but Lacroix halted her approach.

"Not yet, ma fille. This lesson is for you to enjoy," he said and led her over to the bed.

He motioned her to lie down. Taking a seat beside her he resumed caressing her, but instead of enjoying his attentions, he noticed that she became more and more tense and stared at him in fearful expectation.

Silently he covered her with a comforter. "We will continue tomorrow," he said softly and left her room.

Janette didn't dare move, always waiting for him to return. Finally she relaxed and began to sob quietly.

* * *

Janette passed the entire day in nervous expectation. She was certain Lacroix would be angry with her because of her demeanor. But when she faced him in the evening, he merely gave her a friendly smile and led her to another entertainment at court.

On their return however, he followed her into her bedroom. "Let us continue where we left off," he breathed and repeated his advances of the night before. This time he used his lips as well as his hands to caress her skin.

"Relax and enjoy," he whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver slightly as goosebumps formed on her skin. But she also noticed that the sensation wasn’t unpleasant. But the longer he took in drawing lazy circles across her marble skin, the more nervous she became in anticipation of what his next step would be.

But there was no next step. When Lacroix noticed her increasing discomfort, he stopped his ministration and covered her as he had done the night before. He left her room wordlessly and went in search of a servant girl to satisfy his own craving.

* * *

"I want you to focus on the here and now, Janette," he instructed her on the next night after she had lain down. "Do not distract yourself with what might follow or not."

She nodded, feeling oddly humbled by the patience he had with her. He either had immense self control or he didn’t find her attractive at all. She assumed it was the latter. Who wanted a woman that turned frigid at the slightest provocation?

"Janette?" his voice broke into her reverie. "I told you to focus on the here and now."

She cast him a sheepish look and smiled nervously. "Forgive me. I was just wondering why you take such efforts with me at all. Why not simply take me as others have and be done with it?"

Lacroix was appaled by her suggestion. "Because, my dear Janette, you are no longer a common whore. You are my daughter and as such you deserve to be treated with respect," he spoke distinctly.

"But you don’t find me attractive," she observed with a pout.

Lacroix gazed at her intensely. Then he leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Janette gasped in surprise and instinctively returned the kiss with ardour. Lacroix was amazed by her skills and realized that no further instructions were necessary in that regard. Perhaps he had chosen the wrong approach.

He raised his head to let her see his golden eyes. "Does this answer your question?" he asked hoarsely.

She smiled at him and pulled him back onto her lips.

While she was distracted in this way, Lacroix resumed caressing her body with his hands, inching his way ever so slightly lower. Occasional moans of pleasure that escaped her told him that he was on the right track. But as he boldly touched her intimate part, she jerked away from him.

"No! Please, don’t!" she screamed in sudden terror.

He stopped instantly and squeezed his eyes shut, clamping down his rising desire for her. "As you wish," he said in a rough voice that sent shivers down her spine.

* * *

On the following evening Lacroix did not accompany Janette into her room after they had returned from the night’s festivities. Janette suppressed a bout of disappointment as she sat down on her bed. She realized that she had begun to enjoy his ministrations. And while a part of her still feared that he would hurt her, another knew that she could trust him.

Hesitantly she rose from her bed and moved across the hall towards his room, where she knocked timidly on the wooden door.

"Entrez," he called.

She opened the door carefully and perceived him, dressed in his robe, as if he had awaited her.

"You didn’t come to my room," she observed.

"I was not sure if you wanted that tonight," he replied, holding her gaze.

She swallowed, fighting an inner battle. Then she took a tentative step closer. "I --- I’d like to continue," she said.

He curved his lips into a smile. "I expected no less," he breathed and initiated a tender kiss, pleased to find her responding hungrily.

This time he was careful to spare her intimate part with his hand while he caressed her. Instead he used his mouth to kiss and lick a wet path towards that special area and blew softly upon it as he reached his goal.

A gasp escaped Janette and she clawed her hands into the sheet. Cautiously he began his arousing attack with his tongue, skillfully alternating between licking and sucking.

Janette had the feeling that something was burning inside her. She arched her back in an attempt to give him better access, so that his touch would cool the fire inside her.

Then all of a sudden the sensation stopped.

"Don’t stop, please," she rasped.

"The next step is for you to initiate," Lacroix whispered, moving along her body. "I have prepared you very carefully. I promise you there will be no pain, only pleasure."

Janette stared at him, noting that he had discarded his robe. She knew full well what was expected of her. Her entire body yearned for fulfillment, but could she trust him not to hurt her?

He pulled her on top of him. "It’s your decision," he said, almost pleadingly. "Take as much time as you need."

Janette took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Nodding she moved in for the inevitable, surprised at how easily he glided into her. She opened her eyes and stared at him in wonder. He let out a sigh of contentment, then he turned them over and began to withdraw, before carefully pushing back inside. After judging her reaction he repeated the maneuvre, increasing the rhythm with each thrust. Janette’s entire body was on fire. She found herself looking forward to each new invasion and arched her back to draw him deeper into her core. Her face was contorted in rapture and she was moaning wildly now, in the same rhythm as he applied his strokes. Her vision had turned crimson and she gasped as her fangs dropped, conveying a desperate need for something else.

Lacroix sensed her growing need and guided her head towards his neck. "Bois!" he commanded.  
Janette bit down deeply. With the first taste of his blood her body erupted in a shuddering climax, magnified by the sensation as Lacroix returned the bite and completed the cycle.  
Lacroix caught her in his arms, murmuring soothing words as tears streamed from her eyes.

"I had no idea it could be like that," Janette said after she had regained her composure.

"I know," Lacroix whispered. "Always make sure that your needs are taken care of. No man deserves an encounter with you who doesn’t take pleasure from the endeavour to satisfy you. It lies within your power to create a desire in them that makes them willing participants to sate your own hunger."

* * *

Over the next years Lacroix watched as his daughter perfected her hunting methods. He could see how she enjoyed her game of seduction until her victim was completely under her spell.

"How badly do you want me?" he often heard her whisper before waves of pleasure reached him across their bond.

* * *

Lacroix regarded his daughter with pride and congratulated himself on his creation. She was ready to lure the perfect son into his web. Yes, a daughter was a well chosen beginning...

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the following dialogue of "A Fate worse than Death":  
> Janette: "You've been following me".  
> Lacroix: "You have no idea for how long."


End file.
